


Bed Day

by CelesteFitzgerald



Series: Beatles requests from tumblr [20]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26725666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: Paul can't get himself out of bed. His boyfriends make it better.
Relationships: George Harrison/John Lennon/Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr
Series: Beatles requests from tumblr [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914673
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	Bed Day

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by anon: "Hi! I know you might already have a lot of requests, and I'm sorry to add one up to the list. But I just admire your work on ao3, and i thought i might ask for a lil smth? You see, I'm going back to school in a city far away from my family, and I could really use a lil thing to cheer me up. I don't have a precise idea, but maybe poly Beatles trying to cheer up a down/tired Paul? Each trying smth to bring a smile to his face? Funny or comforting, whatever you prefer you're the writer. Thank you" 
> 
> I know I'll never know exactly what you're going through, anon, but I live far away from my family too. Especially with the current state of the world, some days are really hard. If you're ever having a hard time, you can always send me a message, or request another fic if fics help you. (That goes for everyone, not just this anon.) Life sucks, but we can navigate through the suckiness together and hopefully have some fun along the way <3

“He’s still in bed?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

Paul hugged the blankets tighter as he tried to tune out his boyfriends’ concerned whispers from the hallway. It wasn’t like they were saying anything he didn’t already know. He knew he should be out of bed by now. He just couldn’t do it.

_Knock knock_. “Paul? Are you awake, love?”

Of course, it _had_ to be Ringo who spoke. If it were John or George, Paul could have easily pretended to be asleep, but Ringo was too precious, too sweet to ignore. “Yeah,” Paul mumbled into his pillow so quietly he wasn’t sure Ringo would be able to hear.

The door cracked open, and a pair of sad, blue eyes peered inside. “Can I join you?”

Paul couldn’t find the strength to talk, but he lifted the edge of the blankets for Ringo to slip under.

Ringo climbed in and scooted right behind him, gently resting a hand on Paul’s side. He stayed quiet, but Paul knew it wouldn’t last long. The inevitable “What’s wrong?” was on the way.

Sure enough, Ringo cleared his throat and Paul braced himself. “Beds are comfortable, aren’t they?”

That was unexpected. But Paul couldn’t disagree, so he nodded.

“Why is it they’re so much better during the day than at night?” Ringo asked, lightly grabbing Paul’s hand and gliding his fingertip up and down each of Paul’s fingers one by one. “The pillows are so much softer, and the blankets are so much warmer. It’s lovely.”

It _was_ lovely—usually. Today, Paul just felt…wrong. And he didn’t know how to explain it to Ringo. He felt like he needed to say something, though, so he muttered a quiet, “It’s too bright.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. As he stared blankly at the window, the sun seemed to be mocking him, screaming a silent _you’re not supposed to be here_ —

Paul gasped as Ringo lifted the blankets higher until the tops of their heads were buried underneath. “Is that better?” Ringo asked.

“It’s, um…well, it’s darker.”

“Yep. Cozier, too.” Ringo scooted closer and wrapped the covers tighter until warmth pressed in on Paul from every side. Their noses accidently bumped together, and Ringo apologized.

Paul couldn’t help the tiny giggle that burst from his mouth. Their bodies were so close that his laugh shook Ringo as well, and it was only a few seconds before they were laughing in each other’s arms.

“He’s laughing now—I’m goin’ in,” John announced from across the room. Still blinded by the blankets, the only warning Paul had was a rush of footsteps before John jumped on top of them. “I missed you, Paulie,” John said, running his hands over the Paul-shaped lump. “I would have been here sooner, but _someone_ thought I’d screw it up.”

“Yes, because you would have,” George said as he sat on the bed and kept his distance.

John blew a raspberry.

Under the covers, Ringo made eye contact with Paul. “Would you like to return to the sun?”

Paul sighed. “Sure, why not?”

After a quick peck on the lips, Paul and Ringo popped their heads out. “There’s our boy,” George said, poking Paul’s nose and smiling softly. “We all missed you.”

The knot in Paul’s stomach tightened back up. “I know,” he whispered. “I’ll get up soon.”

“You don’t have to,” George said as he played with Paul’s hair. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a bed day if you need it. We just didn’t want you having a _miserable_ bed day.”

“And we don’t want you to be lonely,” Ringo added.

Paul smiled at them, but he still felt bad about ruining their day. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“Do you want us to leave?” John asked.

Of course not, Paul wanted to yell. But he held his tongue.

“Mind if we put our pyjamas back on and hang out here for a while?” Ringo asked.

“…That sounds nice.”

The other three eagerly changed into more comfortable outfits and hopped under the covers. John kissed and tickled Paul’s neck while George squeezed his hand and listed off the dumbest jokes he could think of.

Ringo, on the other hand, quietly lay on the other side of the bed watching his boyfriends enjoy themselves. Paul glanced his way, and Ringo gave him the softest, fondest gaze he’d ever seen. Maybe spending the day in bed wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
